For the first time that night, she paused. The sink flooded her memory. She pressed her palms into the counter’s edge and saw another sink from long ago. The party in the other room was nearly as raucous as the bombs which had stopped her then, throwing her across the room. She had staggered home in bloodied scrubs to a pile of rubble, her two sons and husband dead.

Heels clicked across the floor and gently added to the dishes. “Jihan, when you’re done with these, you can head home.”

Dr. Sarraf looked at the dishes. Time to scrub in.

Joe Bernardi is an English and Social Studies teacher in Michigan. Husband, father of four. Knitter, sketch artist, born again. He used to dig basements.